Old Lanterns
by Mockingtale Bright
Summary: Roaming through scarlet decay, Diao Chan is reminded by an unexpected visitor of the value of little things, like paper lanterns and fairy tales– and the memories and lessons they hold


**_Happy Mid-Autumn!_**

* * *

**_貂蝉闭月 _****_  
Diao Chan eclipses the Moon_**

* * *

_"I'm going to tell you something important.  
Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world."_

_― Neil Gaiman, Ocean at the End of the Lane_

* * *

The air was crisp, sharp with the fugitive scents of over-ripened berries—hanging in clusters from the swaying branches, mingling with the cold, fresh air. The lazy numbing drawl of autumnal chill caressed rosy cheeks and startled her lungs with its frosty vigor. Breaths of air came out in colorless smoke from her pale lips and she cupped her white hands to her mouth, blowing gently on her palms.

In the palace gardens, autumn equinox had ripped the warm amber leaves from the surrounding trees, scattering them on the ground in an intricate blanket of warm oranges, muted browns and dying reds. In a distance away from her, nobles robed in grand colors laughed under an enclosure of bright torchlights, rowdy and indulgent in loud conversation.

_They miss the point_, thought Diao Chan, mildly disgusted, _they miss the night sky. Indeed_, as she looked to the moon and lifted one white hand, she felt awe and nostalgia as her pale skin glowed and was dusted with silver. In the sharp chill of the pre-winter air, the fragrance of withering flowers and fruit was strong, a harmonious large burst of scents in a wide spectrum– nature's last farewell before settling in for the season of white frost. The scents worked in tangent with the darkness of night, that velvet cloak of pitch black imbibed with the fragrance of berries that wrapped comfortingly around her.

The dancer had escaped, for a moment, from the grand Mid-Autumn Festival Banquet. Hell had recalled back its demons and ancestral spirits, souls of beloved now gone, back into the bosom of the afterlife[1]. Now was a season of moon cakes and pale flames lonely in the dark, of whispered secrets between lovers and entangled fingers, strolling through the shades of the night[2]. Diao Chan was alone, contemplating. Musing.

Living in the imperial palace was a life under watchful eyes. Servants gossiped, guards took note. She rarely had time to think of the past or the future, only now– the present– her schemes, her planned demure wiles. Sometimes, in moments like this, when she stopped to think, it shocked her how so... frightening she had become. Changed. Cruel, almost spiteful.

She was Dong Zhuo's property, his dancing peony. He saw her as the jewel of his lustful paradise, the diamond on top of a mountain of pearls. She was his songbird, kept in his gilded cage with a toy key on her back, for him to wind up and play. Diao Chan had his affections, or a large portion of whatever heart he had smothered by fat within his chest.

The tyrant that had placed himself upon the golden throne was not a man to be adored. But he was a man that one could not underestimate, a man who had serpentined through the badlands of politics not by his cruelty, but by a vile, cunning mind. She had to be cautious around him, wary. Dong Zhuo was no simpleton, but she had projected the image of a fair-faced girl, innocent and graceful and uncomplicated. To him, she was the girl– the songstress to be led by the fair hand around the gardens, whose bright eyes were unsullied by layered agenda and who looked upon him in star-struck adoration. It was perhaps that which appealed to him the most; that she appeared sincerely genuine whenever she laid her eyes upon him, as if she truly delighted upon seeing him.

Vulgar ogre. Even the most disgusting vied for true love.

For Lu Bu, the one whom she played games with in the dark, through whispered secrets and stolen kisses, was the beast feared throughout the land. Did he really love her? Or was he merely infatuated by a fair visage and airy lips?

Lu Bu was a man whose rage and arrogance spilled out of him with ever movement, every bold word that came from his lips, every glare a cutting blow. His loyalty was to himself, to his fancies and strength. This was a man who delighted in the fear he forced into his enemies' eyes, their cries of terror, his show of power. His euphoria lay in his confidence in his superiority, and mercy was a bait he enjoyed dangling in front of starving foxes.

Monster.

It had taken a considerable amount of time prying his attention from his indulgences and redirecting them to her, an effort that had resulted in sleepless nights and moments of frustrated despair. Now he had told her he wanted her to be his, and his dark eyes glinted as he promised her she would be free.

Free. The wind running through her hair as she ran through open fields. Sunlight through lidded eyes as she lay down in flower meadows. Free. Free to live and love. Free to sing for herself, dance for herself.

As she looked deeply back into his eyes, a cry had crawled up her throat and stayed there. And the question looped in her mind.

Would she ever be free?

If she did succeed, if Lu Bu gave the finishing blow, what would happen to her? China would be in chaos, warlords would ransack the land and in the ensuing madness, Lu Bu would come and claim her, and she would be passed from the grasp of one tyrant into another. There would always be a leash of pearls and rubies around her neck wherever she went, until the end of her days.

What would happen to her? Would she grow old? Would she have children? Would she sit in the porch of some unnamed cottage, her beauty long faded, but wrinkled hands in the grasp of another and happier than she had ever been?

And her. Changed. She, forced to grow up. She had tasted the bitterness of spent time and man's greed, and she had to adapt to it. She spent her days dodging jealous concubines and sly ministers, forced herself to mimic emotions towards people she was disgusted by. How could she ever be the same? How could she just... drop, just stop, and turn back? How could she... look at peonies the same way again? She spent years wearing this porcelain mask... but had the person inside, she, Diao Chan, eroded away a long time ago?

She didn't want to know. There she stood in the wide clearing, the ground of vermillion and red drenched in shadow, and as the future loomed before her unscripted– uncertain, she had never felt more haunted and more frightened.

Weary of her troubled thoughts, Diao Chan cast a final look at the white moon; large, enigmatic, its luminescent surface bearing large speckles of dark grey, and laid her head on the bed of fallen leaves. Lady Chang'er, stoic and silent watched as the dancing peony closed her eyes.

* * *

A girl with hazel hair and bright eyes skipped merrily over the dead leaves and dry grass, her booted feet crunching the leaves. In her hands were a stack of compacted paper lanterns, of varying shades of pink and warm gold, and a box of candles and matchsticks in her pocket, making rustling noises as she hopped.

She had sickened of the bright firelight and monotonous chatter of the banquet, and clinging to her husband's arm while listening to tedious conversation about latest war strategy was absolutely _BORING_. Da Qiao was of no help either; her moaning complaints were met with chiding, and so she wandered around the banquet restless, ignoring the fluid dancers and lively music. The cheerfulness and loudness of the atmosphere only served to agitate her even more, until her husband himself had come over to her, pressing a stack of children's paper lanterns into her hands, a twinkle in his eyes and an apologetic quirk to his grinning mouth.

Content with her newfound toys, she had grinned back and hugged him swiftly.

Zhou Yu was not like Da Qiao or quite anyone, really. He understood that she was easily bored, easily excited, petty, simple, childish– but she was not a child. Many often treated her as such; like some adorable pet to be cooed at, or some immature little girl who simply could not understand. Zhou Yu understood that she was a child but yet not a child, and she loved that part of him most of all.

Now she had escaped into the gardens, into the darkness so that she may light up her lantern and watch it glow. She wanted a secluded spot, a large, open enclosure under the moon so that she could properly celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival the way it was supposed to be celebrated. Not in stuffy banquets where torches ruined the brightness of the stars, nor in loud chatter with some meaningless noble. Mid-Autumn was a time for family and friends, and those people, especially that disgusting Dong Zhuo were definitely NOT her friends!

Spotting a large, bent oak tree, she hurried over eagerly, attracted by the way the branches swayed gently against the wind. As she neared, she stopped abruptly in her tracks.

There, on the grass bathing in the white glow of the moon, slept a meadow nymph.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a fair face and dressed in lush silks of pink. Jewels and lace were entangled in her dark hair and her eyelids were dark-rose lidded, clothing and ebony hair splayed across the ground around her, encircling her like clouds. Xiao Qiao's breath caught in her throat as she stared.

The Two Qiaos were said to be famous for their beauty. An exaggeration, Da Qiao had assured her, although Zhou Yu had always spoken of how lucky he was to be married to a famous beauty. She had never really quite understood nor even bothered, until she looked upon the Lady Zhen Ji and finally asked her husband.

"Zhou Yu. Why do they say that I'm beautiful?"

Zhou Yu had looked up from his maps, startled. He was long accustomed to his inquisitive wife barging into his study and asking or saying all sorts of things— but not this. He sensed that he was possibly treading a wary subject and became cautious.

"Because I say you are, Xiao Qiao, and the rest of China happens to agree with me. Why?"

Xiao Qiao bit her lip. "I still don't understand." she insisted mulishly, whining.

A normal man would have given her a patient smile and carted her off to someone else. Giving her a polite excuse that he was busy and would she please find someone else, because this was really important. The sentence 'I still don't understand' carried a lot of possible meanings and would be answered with a bewildered or impatient 'What don't you understand?'.

See, Xiao Qiao could never really quite put into words what exactly it was she couldn't understand, she would gesture wildly and insist and the other party would only get incredibly confused, until she stomped off frustrated and left the other party furiously annoyed.

But not Zhou Yu, he seemed to understand just exactly what she meant through all that spontaneous gesturing and rambling. And so he replied, "Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and sometimes what some may find beautiful, others may feel differently. Beauty is exemplified in qualities which are special and unique, and because what is considered 'special' varies from person to person, 'beauty' is therefore a matter of opinion. Hence, you are considered beautiful by many because many find you special and unique, as they rightly should, therefore, many say that you are beautiful. Got that Xiao Qiao?" he finished with a mild smile."

Right now, seeing that meadow nymph with butterfly wing-tipped eyelashes and creamy cheeks, Xiao Qiao thought she exemplified beauty and couldn't help but feel an emotion of rising jealousy. She quickly squashed it down. This was some meadow nymph. She had Zhou Yu, the most brilliant man in China, Da Qiao, another famous beauty for a sister and she belonged to the most awesome state of Wu! Ha! She was a thousand times infinitely more special than that meadow nymph!

But still, meadow nymphs slept in Willow trees after sundown– at least that was what Lu Su had told her. Perhaps she couldn't find a Willow tree and chose to sleep on the mattress of fallen autumnal leaves. Either way, Xiao Qiao knew for one that there was a Willow tree standing at the back entrance of the garden, looking fit for a nymph, and that she had never talked to a magical creature before. Besides, Zhou Yu was not going to join her anytime soon, she could use some company!

She hunkered down on her knees and tapped the nymph's shoulder impatiently. "Wake up, wake up! You're sleeping in the wrong place!" she sang, prodding the nymph's shoulder.

There was a soft murmur before the nymph gasped and sat up, looking around wildly. Finally, grey eyes settled on her, confused and surprised. Xiao Qiao merely gave an easy grin and snatched her white hand from the ground, pulling her up.

"Hi hi! Don't be scared! I've never seen a meadow nymph before! Anyway, you shouldn't sleep out in the open like that, because insects can crawl into your ear– at least that's what Da Qiao told me."

The grey eyes were still very much bewildered, before the nymph bent slightly to look closer at Xiao Qiao. Her eyes widened in recognition and she pulled back.

"M-my lady?" she stuttered.

Xiao Qiao beamed, her hazel hair swishing behind her. "My name is Xiao Qiao, what's yours?"

The meadow nymph blinked and shifted, looking around at the garden uneasily. "Uh- ah, my name is Mu Dan'er [3]."  
Xiao Qiao nodded happily and pulled Mu Dan'er along, the nymph's dress catching on the dried leaves on the ground and rustling, pink silk spilling onto dark red. They hurried out of the shade of the large tree and into the clearing, back into the middle of the large halo where silver light poured into the earth from the moon. Mu Dan'er glanced at Xiao Qiao with frowning eyes and increasing nervousness, fidgeting slightly. The easily excitable girl responded with a reassuring, yet reckless beam and proceeded to separate a single compressed lantern from the thin stack she was holding, handing it to Mu Dan'er who took it automatically, a puzzled expression on her fair face.

Retrieving a candle and a box of matchsticks from her pockets, Xiao Qiao quickly unstuck both ends of the paper lantern so that it expanded, falling into the rectangular shape of a proper lantern. Sticking the green candle into the loop made from wire, she stuck her tongue out as she struck a match and lit the candle, careful not to set fire to the paper fabric. Immediately, a warm light, cozy and comforting, flared up within the lantern and Xiao Qiao, her grin widening, leaned back.

Now as she surveyed the lithe form of the nymph before her, struck by moonlight, washed in rose clouds and beholding a soft, glowing paper lantern, Xiao Qiao was reminded of the book of paintings Zhou Yu had gifted to her on her birthday, showing gorgeous hand-painted pictures of dragons and the Lady of the Moon. Now Mu Dan'er looked like one of those figures from that book.

Magical.

* * *

_"Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."_

_— Neil Gaiman, Coraline_

* * *

Diao Chan had been upsettingly anxious and embarrassed the moment she woke up. When her opened eyes met the beaming face of the wife of Zhou Yu, she was frightened that odd questions would abound and awkward moments would follow.

Fortunately, the vibrant girl had seemed to think that Diao Chan was some sort of... fairy? How so... flattering and...

Diao Chan looked up from the lantern and back to the girl, who was now trying to light her own paper lantern. Lady Xiao Qiao of Wu did not possess the porcelain, milky visage of her older sister, who had carved red lips and dark, charming eyes. Lady Da Qiao was a little china doll, with an inexpressive flawless face and silky ebony hair, polite movements and from what Diao Chan had observed, the demeanor of reserved and delicate and fragile things.

Lady Xiao Qiao was different. She was more tanned, but she possessed the fair face of Spring, or an early morning sun, full of vitality and energy that shone out with every smile and grin. There was a certain radiance of childish innocence that seemed to emanate from her. And while her older sister was reserved and quiet, Xiao Qiao seemed to dance and jump with the grace of a finicky butterfly.

Still just a girl.

Diao Chan had heard that her husband, Zhou Yu, was very protective and loving towards her. It must be true.

Still a girl. Still haven't seen the ugliness of men yet.

Again that flash of despair clutched at her throat and forced a strangled sob from her lips. Hot tears prickled at her eyes and she looked away as she felt a wave of raging resentment towards the little girl, who was earnestly trying to light up her lantern.

Xiao Qiao must have heard, because she looked up with startled, wide eyes– like a jack rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a hunter's bow. Those inquisitive eyes blinked once before frowning at the lovely fairy turned away from her, glowing lantern trembling faintly in her hand. Immediately, Xiao Qiao knew that the meadow nymph was trying her hardest not to cry. Like Da Qiao whenever Sun Ce went missing on some extended battle trip.

There was a twinge of guilt that tugged sharply at her heart and the corners of her lips turned down. Did she do something wrong?

"Hey... Mu Dan'er. Is something wrong? Did- did I do something?" she tugged gently on the lady's sleeves, prompting her to turn back. Grey eyes shined with unshed tears and a crumbling pride trying best not to let them fall. The meadow nymph was devastated by something, and her sadness touched Xiao Qiao.

Diao Chan let her eyelids settle over her eyes, pushing back tears and fears to the bottomless pit of her heart, where all sad emotions were locked away and the mask of Diao Chan of Han, of song and dance, settled smoothly back, sliding into place.

The child was looking at her with such wide, anxious eyes that she allowed a kindly smile to grace her lips. She smiled gently, her grey eyes of shining stars and replied with a soft and lilting tone.

"I was merely thinking of a sad, sad story, my lady. It is nothing." she spoke, hoping the girl would look away, or even walk away– but the lantern's amber light threw its soft glow on her face and Diao Chan saw it was suddenly piqued with keen interest.

She leaned forwards earnestly, balancing on the tips of her toes. "Oooooh! Is it a song? Is it a tale? Have I heard of it before?", her youthful eyes sparkled as she chattered away. "You know what? You should tell it to me anyway! Lu Su says nymphs have the most prettiest voices and magical creatures always have the best tales. And- and I know! There's this Willow tree out here somewhere where you can make your home! We can walk there and you can sing to me. And then you'll have a bed at the end of the day!"

She smiled widely up at Diao Chan, her child-like innocence shining through. Diao Chan blinked in surprise. Willow tree?

The mellow pink light of her lantern caught her eye and she looked down at it, the fragile, destructible thing dangling beneath her fingertips. Xiao Qiao was still waiting in front of her, fidgeting and dancing on the spot, eager for the fairy's reply.

The small, crushable lantern brought back so many memories of her younger days, when a smile was a smile and when words meant the truth. She wondered about the moment she grew up, when did it happen? Did it creep up in her in her sleep? Was it like a disease, infecting her like a cough, or a flu? Her biological father used to walk with her through the streets of her hometown, songs playing through the windows and sparklers whistling as she held his hand, the other limb holding that precious, wondrous, glowing lantern that lit up the dark. That paper lantern had meant so much to her. Mid-autumn was the only time when she could hold that small lantern, that tiny moon in her hand and her father and her would just wander around the town aimlessly, and he would point out funny sights or strange things on sale– and she would laugh.

Looking back at the Qiao with the energy of the sun in her chocolate eyes, Diao Chan sighed and nodded. Besides, the little girl looked so excited and eager that Diao Chan couldn't bear to see disappointment mar that face.

Xiao Qiao gave a shout of happiness and jumped in joy. Then, to Diao Chan's shock, she slipped her slender fingers into Diao Chan's own, like a child seeking comfort and security. Swinging her arm playfully, Xiao Qiao dragged the fairy maiden out of the clearing and down the wide path of the garden, where large trees and bushes loomed on either sides.

"Well, well? We had a deal, you and I!", Xiao Qiao prompted impatiently. "You know, I really like stories. Even sad ones. Sister says I have my head too much in the clouds, but Zhou Yu disagrees. Well?"

This was... Diao Chan looked back at the paper lantern between her fingers and the small girl holding her hand. This was odd! One of China's most famous Two Qiaos, wife of a great strategist, was holding her hand. Her, the favorite whore of Dong Zhuo, her, the Han nightingale. Holding her hand like a little girl would her mother.

For some inexplicable reason, Diao Chan tightened her grip on the small hand. Like a mother would her little girl. And gave a gentle smile.

"I...", she was at a loss for words. The girl was looking up at her expectantly, her mouth in an ever-eager grin. Brown eyes sparkled and Xiao Qiao leaned slightly towards Diao Chan as they walked the lonely pathway, two shadowed silhouettes with softly glowing paper lanterns in their hands.

"Once upon a time... there was...", she couldn't think of any story. What story could she possible tell? She glanced around for inspiration, any song to sing. Then her eyes caught sight of the paper lantern in her hands.

There was a pause, a stillness. Suddenly, as if the night wind had blown away cobwebs in her mind, a precious memory resurfaced; that of gentle lights swaying by her window, stories told with low voices and kindly smiles. The memory was attached to... a story. A fable told to her a long time ago. But it was still veiled by the dust of time so she started the fable slowly, like both hands deep into the ocean's depths, trying to pull old anchors out. "Once upon a time..."

_"Why once upon a time?", small grey eyes demanded from the bed covers. There was a small pout on her little mouth and an almost-glare on her face. The man at her bedside laughed and ruffled her hair. She growled._

_"Once upon a time, as all stories do. Because all stories have to start someday, you know."_

_"And?", the child asked impatiently, eager for the story._

_The man chuckled at her and reached for something he had placed earlier on the floor. He retrieved a small paper lantern, tossed to the ground earlier by a certain rowdy little girl. He smiled and hung the lantern from the window, steadying it with two hooks and lighting the wax candle inside._

_Soon, the only light in the room came from the silver outpour of moonlight and the humble, mellow luminescence of the small lantern. He turned back to the girl._

_"Now where were we? Ah. Once upon a time, there were ten suns-"_

_"How can there be ten suns?", the little girl demanded._

_The man paused to think. "There were ten suns... because... the suns were siblings, and they didn't want to be parted from each other. So they chose to stay together instead. So, there were ten suns. And because there were too many suns and thus too much heat, the earth and the people on it were scorched. Seas and lakes dried up, trees burned. There was no more water left and all the people suffered. There was a great suffering."_

_"How could the suns be so mean?", the girl cried out. "They knew they would cause hurt, so why did they still stay close to each other?"_

_The man smoothed her dark hair. "Well, my darling, because the suns were selfish. They weren't very considerate and they didn't care if anyone got hurt. They just cared about having fun."_

_"Pigs!", the little girl spat._

_The man patted her cheek gently. "Language. Anyway, so the Emperor asked a famous archer for help. The archer's name was Houyi, and he could should the centre of a single leaf a hundred yards away."_

_The little girl was wide-eyed. She clutched at her blanket. "So he was a hero?"_

_"Hero? What makes you say that?"_

_"Well", the girl started irritated, "heroes are supposed to be strong, aren't they? They're supposed to beat the bad guys and chase the monsters away. Houyi was strong. So that makes him a hero!"_

_"Well...", the man paused. "That's not true. Heroes are kind, noble and unselfish. Everyone can be a hero." He looked down at his daughter. "Even you can be a hero."_

_"Nu-uh", she said stubbornly, "Children can't be heroes."_

_The man snorted. "Anyway, Houyi was... a strong man. But he was very proud of what he could do. He would hold archery contests all day, just to show off his skills, and when his opponents lost against him, he would humiliate them."_

_Diao Chan frowned. "But that's so mean! He's just like those suns! Why would the Emperor ask for his help if he was just as bad as the bad guys?"_

_"Beeeecause...", her father raised his finger. "Desperate times called for desperate measures. The Emperor may not have liked Houyi, but Houyi could take care of the problem better than he could, so he asked Houyi anyway."_

_"That's unfair", the little girl said crossly._

_The man shrugged. "So Houyi agreed to help the Emperor– on one condition: He wanted the most beautiful maiden in all the land. That maiden's name was Chang'er. And the story says she was prettier than peonies, could dance with much more grace than a swallow, and had a voice that was as soothing as a nightingale's."_

_"Chang'er despised Houyi. She hated his arrogance and how he mocked others. But the people were suffering, so she allowed the Emperor to persuade her to agree to be Houyi's wife. Houyi thought she truly loved him, and he was infatuated with her. So Chang'er took advantage of that infatuation to ensure that Houyi kept his promise to get rid of the suns."_

_"And then what happened?", the little girl whispered, eyes as wide as the moon._

_"So Houyi shot down nine of the suns, and the earth was once again not too hot nor too cold. It was just right. Now, because he did what the Emperor asked him to do, the Emperor had no choice but to let Houyi marry Chang'er."_

_"That's not fair!", Diao Chan cried. "But Chang'er didn't love him! She could have said no!"_

_The man smoothed her hair. "Chang'er had to make a sacrifice, my darling. She had promised to marry Houyi if he got rid of the suns. And he did. However, the people were so grateful to Houyi that they got rid of the old Emperor and replaced him with Houyi instead. 'Long live the Archer Emperor! Long live the Archer Emperor', they cried, waving red flags in the air. So Houyi became the Emperor, and Chang'er became the Empress."_

_"What?", Diao Chan blurted out._

_The man chuckled. "Unfortunately for them, it was as Emperor that Houyi's true colors showed; he was cruel and greedy, and he abused his power. He made the people work long and hard so that they could pay him taxes, which he just kept increasing and increasing and increasing. The Imperial Palace had waterfalls of wine that flowed in rivers through the buildings, trees made of jade and onyx throughout the gardens, with crystal flowers that reflected the light into a million colors. He made them work and work so that he could pay for all those luxuries. Once again, the people suffered, and Chang'er despaired."_

_"That's sad", the little girl murmured._

_The man nodded. "Chang'er thought her sacrifice was in vain. Life continued on, the people's suffering increased with the passage of time, Houyi grew greedier as the years passed and Chang'er grew sadder."_

_"One day, Houyi was combing his hair when he spotted a single silver strand among his head of black hair. As strong and skilled an archer as Houyi might be, he was still a mortal. And all mortals die in time. Houyi became frightened. He commanded his entire imperial court to find him the elixir of eternal life[4].  
This became a problem of course. If Houyi gained eternal life, he would be the Emperor forever, and the people's suffering would never end."_

_"Houyi's imperial scholars and alchemists searched high and low for the solution to death. These were skilled academics who knew the secrets of the universe, academics who could turn lead into gold, yet they had a very hard time looking for the elixir of life. They took a decade to search when finally, all of their efforts culminated in the production of a pill that would grant eternal life. Houyi was ecstatic. Finally, he would be an immortal! He put the pill under his pillow, because he wanted to save the pill for a grand feast, when he would announce to the entire world that he would be their eternal ruler."_

_"That's not a happy ending", Diao Chan grouched, "I don't like this story anymore, father."_

_"I'm not done yet", the man replied. "So the pill was under Houyi's pillow, and his room was barred to all except his wife. Now, Chang'er had known about her husband's pill for a long time, and she planned to steal the pill away so that her husband would not have the chance to become immortal. She despised the man she married and wanted to relieve the pain of the people and make them happy again."_

_"What did she do?", Diao Chan whispered, growing anxious._

_"So one night, Chang'er sneaked into her husband's room, wanting to steal away his pill of immortality. She put the capsule inside her robes and was about to leave, when suddenly, her husband walked in!"_

_Diao Chan gasped._

_"Chang'er was frightened, and Houyi, being suspicious, reached under his pillow to find his pill of eternal life gone! 'Where is my pill?!', he roared, and reached for his wife. Chang'er, terrified, ran backwards and accidentally tripped, falling out of the window! Houyi screamed and lunged at her, but he missed, and Chang'er fell down and down... and down. Down from the highest floor in the highest building in the Imperial Palace."_

_The little girl made an incoherent sound and clutched her blanket tighter. She peeked up from where she was smothering her face with the fabric, her eyes wide._

_"As she fell, the pill slipped from her robes and fell into her mouth! So Chang'er gained the powers of immortality, and drifted heavenwards, up and up and up. Until she reached the moon and landed there. So until today, she still remains on the moon, watching the earth and playing with the Jade hare that resides there with her. This is why we call the moon, 'Lady Chang'er', because she is now the goddess of the moon, and we look to her as a symbol of sacrifice and beauty."_

_The story finally came to an end. There was a sniff as Diao Chan rubbed her nose. "That is so sad", she mumbled. The man looked at her and smiled. "So, can you tell me who the hero is in this story?"_

_Diao Chan paused. "Is it Chang'er?", she asked hesitantly. The man nodded. "Heroes aren't the ones who are strong, or save thousands of lives. See, heroes are the people who keep you up when you're feeling down, they're the ones who stand up to bullies or make you smile when you're in tears. They are the ones that make the world a better place— a little... happier. Heroes can be anyone. Even you."_

_Diao Chan frowned and twiddled with the loose threads of her blanket. "Even me?", she murmured. The man nodded and kissed her on the forehead. "Yes, even you. Now," he motioned for her to lie down and tucked her blanket around her, "go to sleep."_

_The man stood up and made to turn around, when Diao Chan whispered. "Father, do you think I can be like Chang'er one day?"_

_The man turned back surprised. He made his way back to the edge of his daughter's bed and perched on the mattress, lifting one hand to tap her on the nose. "Prettier than peonies, much more graceful than a swallow and a voice sweeter than a nightingale's. To me Diao Chan, you already eclipse the moon."_

_Diao Chan shook her head. "No, I mean, do you think I can be a hero like Chang'er one day? That I can save people from suffering and hurt?"_

_"Do you want to?"_

_The little girl nodded._

_This was the moment her father's grizzled face turned serious. "Chang'er brought down two tyrants at the cost of her life, Diao Chan. She made the ultimate sacrifice. When you get older, you will understand the sadness of it." He pecked her on the forehead. "Go to sleep little one, and dream of happy things."_

_Standing up, the man left. The lantern by her window swayed, jostled by the night breeze– the orange flame flickering. Taking comfort in the soft glow, she finally closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep._

_That night, Diao Chan dreamt she was a peony, and she shined brighter than the moon._

* * *

_**095:17:28 Houston: **__Roger. Among the large headlines concerning Apollo this morning, is one asking that you watch for a lovely girl with a big rabbit. An ancient legend says a beautiful Chinese girl called Chang-O has been living there for 4,000 years. It seems she was banished to the Moon because she stole the pill of immortality from her husband. You might also look for her companion, a large Chinese rabbit, who is easy to spot since he is always standing on his hind feet in the shade of a cinnamon tree. The name of the rabbit is not reported._

_**095:18:15 Collins: **__Okay. We'll keep a close eye out for the bunny girl._

_— Apollo 11 Mission, Technical Air-to-Ground Transmission, Day 5_

* * *

Silence followed the last of her words, the story fading from her lips into the past. She was startled by the memories that was unveiled to her. Her father... the memories she had of him were boxed up and placed into the forgetfulness of dreams. She looked down. The pink lantern in her hand still glowed.

"That is a sad story", Xiao Qiao muttered. She had heard the story about the Lady on the Moon before, and the tragic life she led. Still, to hear it from the melodious voice of a fairy nymph was quite something.

Now, the duo had walked three-fourths of the garden, Xiao Qiao's hand still warm in hers. The hazel-haired girl peeked sideways at the fairy nymph and saw that she was lost in deep thought, those grey eyes of hers staring downwards into nothingness. She nudged her.

"Is that why you were so sad? You felt sorry for Chang'er?"

Diao Chan blinked and looked towards Xiao Qiao. A meek smile graced her lips, and she looked wearied. "I was just wondering...", her voice trailed off quietly. "If it was possible for history to repeat itself."

The brilliance of the moon was cast on the trees and the branches, so that the silhouette of the autumn-inflicted trees cast a tattoo of shadows on both their fair faces. The younger lady tilted her head and swung the fairy nymph's arms to and fro, she had a thoughtful look on her youthful face and the shadows of the night did nothing to dim her brightness. "Well," Xiao Qiao started sagely, "History is story isn't it? His-story, her-story, my-story, your-story. I don't think stories repeat themselves. That would be boring, and kind of stupid."

Diao Chan glanced at her, grief still in her grey eyes but an eyebrow raised delicately.

"But, well...", Xiao Qiao continued. "People do have habits... Zhou Yu says I have a bad habit of barging into his study without knocking, and Da Qiao says that I have a habit of offending people by accident. I try to stop, I really do, and sometimes it works but sometimes it fails. Maybe it's not the story that repeats itself, maybe it's the people." She looked up at Diao Chan meaningfully. "Was that why you were sad? Does someone you know have a bad habit?"

The dancing peony in turn, nearly laughed, her melancholic emotions dissipating almost immediately. What an odd question! Yet how utterly ironic. The little girl asked her if she was sad because of someone's bad habit. How odd it was then, because she knew two.

Diao Chan paused, considering her answer to the girl's intuitive question. She said, "Well... yes, I know two mean people who have bad habits... and everyday they make me so sad that I can't take it anymore. I feel... I feel tired bending to their whims... like I'm not... It's getting harder. And sometimes I feel that I'm not strong enough." her voice trailed off, suddenly exhausted. She wondered what the strange girl with the odd sense of wisdom would answer. Xiao Qiao tapped her small chin and pursed her lips, her chocolate eyes aimed skywards.

"Well... Gan Ning is a meanie sometimes to me, but I love him still... so... I don't know. But there was once when he was new, and– and I accidentally whacked him really, really hard with my fan, and he was so mad that he threw my fans into the river! We started fighting a lot with each other after that, until Zhou Yu was mad too and told me that I had to stop fighting with him. When I asked him how I could stop fighting with him because he hated me a lot, Zhou Yu said that I should start by playing nice with him."

"So then I did. I was very polite with him– I was really nice! I did what he asked, I collected peaches off my favorite tree for him and I told him that I was sorry and everything... But he still was really mean to me! He told me I was such a really meek, timid and obedient girl and oooooohh! That made me so mad! I started yelling at him and giving him a piece of my mind! I was so furious that I stormed off and told him he owed me all the peaches I gave him!"

"Gan Ning was really surprised! I remember after that, I stopped being extra nice to him and just treated him like any other person! And you know what? He started to like me– and he gave me a whole box of peaches too! And now he's still really mean sometimes but I know he likes me and that I like him."

"It's weird isn't it? The thing is, we didn't like each other when we were being really really mean to each other. Then when I started being super nice, and I did everything he asked, he became even worse! But when I became myself, he started to like me! I think what it really is, is a matter of respect. No one likes you if you're being really mean, and if you're so, so nice and do everything they tell you to, then you're making it easier for them to push you over! But when you stay true to yourself, they will start respecting you... because you... well, you are pretty important too!"

Xiao Qiao finished with the widest grin, looking at Diao Chan with a merry sparkle in her eyes. Diao Chan merely blinked, slightly shocked.

The little girl suddenly stopped in her tracks, tugging Diao Chan to a stop next to her. The older girl blinked, taking in the environment around her as she saw the starry night sky, grander than a jeweled canvas, above the large body of a gentle, swaying Willow tree.

Xiao Qiao let go of Diao Chan's hand and jumped backwards a little, taking one good look at the fairy nymph under moonlight. She was grinning, rocking backwards on her heels with her hands behind her back. "There!", she sang, "we made a deal, and I kept my end of the bargain! Here is your Willow tree!"

Diao Chan hesitated and walked towards the fairy-tree, her slippered feet gliding over the bed of red leaves. She settled one white hand on the gray bark and turned backwards to look at the little girl.  
"Thank you", she said quietly. And she meant it. It was odd... the girl gave her so much to think about.

_But when you stay true to yourself, they will start respecting you... because you... well, you are pretty important too!_

Her pretty brow furrowed in thought. Xiao Qiao merely continued grinning, then turning to look at the large Willow tree, her grin softened and she looked at the tree almost in nostalgia. "You know," she said in a low, hushed voice to Diao Chan, her eyes never leaving the gentleness of the Willow tree, "I once asked Lu Su why nymphs sleep in the Willow tree. He said because the Willow tree had become bent and aged with time and hardship, and even so, it had the odd kind of resilience to still remain graceful and elegant."

Chocolate eyes turned to Diao Chan. "I think that's important, don't you think?" She smiled and waved at the fairy nymph, who gave her a smile and nod in return. "Goodbye, Mu Dan'er! I hope maybe I'll see you again soon! But in the meantime, thanks for the story!". The hazel-haired girl turned, her ears catching voices carried in the wind, her smile widened and she turned back one last time.

"Goodbye!", she called, then she fled, the figure of orange and sunshine into the shadows and shelter of towering trees. Hazel hair twisted in the wind, her robes fluttering behind her as she ran, the finicky butterfly.

Then she was gone.

All at once, Diao Chan was alone again, and the chilliness of the autumn invaded the space where the warmth of the Wu girl had once occupied. But it was not so cold now. It was not as freezing or hollow.

A smile touched the dancing peony's lips, and she looked up to the moon one last time, bathing in Lady Chang'er's white glow. She looked down at the pink lantern beneath her fingertips and still smiling, she started to walk, her fingertips brushing against the smooth grey bark of the Willow tree.

"Oh, lovely moonlight  
Sunlight, twilight  
Under great Old Lanterns  
Memories of my father, long buried under snow  
Now in Mid-Autumn  
I find myself lost, buried in shades of misery  
I realize that what I have been lacking  
Are lessons I taught myself so long ago..."

Then, slowly, the fairy nymph vanished into the night, the pink, gentle glow of the paper lantern fading together with her.

* * *

_"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."_

_— A.A Milne_

* * *

**Hey there readers! I hope you've enjoyed this one-shot about Diao Chan. This was meant to explore the perspectives and characters of both Diao Chan and Xiao Qiao, and was meant as a celebration story for Mid-Autumn Festival on the 19th of September. Unfortunately, I've only just managed to finish it today.**

**Xiao Qiao as a character has always perked my interest due to her status as the youngest DW character and the most child-like. I wrote a short article on tumblr under my account (mockingtale-girl) titled 'Is Xiao Qiao childish?', and this is my attempt to portray her as stated in the article. As for Diao Chan, she has always had an open nature. Malicious or kind?**

**Secondly, this little story is meant as an apology to all my 'The Tale of Moon and Dragon' readers due to the postponing of Chapter 4: The Good Father. I am under the impression that the majority of fanfiction writers/readers here on DW archives are Diao Chan fans, so this one-shot featured her as the main character. To be honest, you can see the part where I just went 'sod it' and nearly gave up. I mean, writing an 8k+ story kinda wears on your nerves, especially when it drags to almost a week, and it's on your phone. And the iOS 7 is GLITCHY.**

**For all those interested in when the next chapter of 'The Tale of Moon and Dragon' will come out, kindly check 'News Flash' under my bio page. Lastly, to clarify, the version of the Lady Chang'er story has been specifically modified to fit the theme of this story, for a more accurate version, please visit Wikipedia.**

**In the mean time, this is Mockingtale, truly signing off for the last time.**

* * *

[1] Mooncake Festival or Mid-Autumn is celebrated after the Hungry Ghost Month, where the Chinese believe the gates to Hell are open and all the spirits are let out. There is a lot superstition surrounding Ghost Month, as well as a lot of rules. For example, DO NOT EVER EAT OFF ROADSIDE OFFERINGS. It is rude, and there's a very good chance you're not eating alone.  
Wanna hear something interesting? Ramadhan is the holy month for Muslims. Muslims believe that Ramadhan is when the spirits of hell are locked up for the entire month. Guess when Ramadhan ends? That's right, it ends at about the same period the Hungry Ghost Month begins. It's a tad interesting isn't it? Ramadhan: Spirits of hell locked up. Hungry Ghost Month: Spirits of hell let out. Coincidence? I don't think so.

[2] To clarify, Mooncake Festival isn't romantic. I was just being a drama queen. Nowadays, the festival is just an excuse to get close to the matches and blow things up. But in the early days, a romantic stroll with paper lanterns was quite common.

[3]Mu Dan is 'Peony' in Chinese. Interesting fact: The Tree Peony, or 'Paeonia Suffruticosa' is considered the symbol of royalty and virtue, also– Spring. A frequent object of Tang scholars' poems due to it's status as 'King of the flowers' and enchanting beauty (it was flower. It was just a flower). There is a famous Chinese proverb '出淤泥而不染' or 'Grown from the mud but untainted by the soil' used to describe purity and virtue– and the lotus flower. The backstory has nothing to do with peonies but a little to do with flowers so bear with me or just skip down.

'Zhou Dun Yi was a philosopher from the Northern Song Dynasty. He once wrote an essay entitled 'My Love for The Lotus' (Cheesy, really. Should have been 'Lotus and Lasers: the Essay'). In his essay, he said: "The great Jin Dynasty philosopher Tao Yuan Ming loved Chrysanthemums. Scholars from the Tang Dynasty preferred peonies. But I favor the lotus flower because it manages to stay pure even though it grows from mud.

The chrysanthemum is like a hermit. The peony is as ostentatious as wealthy people (Boooooo!). The lotus is like a gentleman. Sigh! Few have appreciated the chrysanthemum ever since Tao Yuan Ming. But who else will love the lotus like me?'

[4]Want to hear something hilarious? Qin Shihuangdi, the dude who united China (like, finally, man), wanted to become an immortal. Usually, when you know some desperado seeking eternal life, you'll be like: "Hey man, look, no one can live forever. So just chin up and live life to the fullest, yah?". But because, see, this was Qin-freaking Shihuangdi, so like, saying 'no' was totally not an option. His researcher/scholars/alchemists came up with a genius plan. See, they found this really really pretty liquid that was all shiny and silvery and stuff (It was magic water! Ooooooooh preeeettyyyy) and through some 'research' (I am being such a cynical bitch right now, I am so sorry), thought, well:

Magic, pretty potion=Elixir of life  
Magic, pretty potion + Emperor= Head stays on shoulders for rest of life

Conclusion: Let's add the pretty liquid thingy to the Emperor's diet! Problem solved. Yay! (It was in pills. Magic pills)

Then he died.

Yeeeaaaah, turns out magic potion was mercury-freaking-mercury. That shiny, pretty thing inside those thermometers you were always tempted to break to see the only metal that assumes liquid state at room temperature.

Oops.

Here comes the good part. Have you seen his tomb?

I have. It is one freaking huge tomb.

Heard of the Terra-cotta Warriors?

Yep.

His tomb is situated near there. It is a freaking huge HILL. Now, I bet you guys are wondering what sorts of gold and treasure and dead concubines he kept inside.

We don't know.

Wanna know why?

There are freaking rivers of blessed shiny silver magic water in there. RIVERS. That's all the magic you can get. Records say he lived like a King and died like a King, complete with his all his swag and stuff. Anyway, I am completely interested in all the treasure stuff he buried with him (No, are you kidding me. I just want to see the magic water). But we can't (and we won't because hello? Magic water is toxic). But— technology will improve, and I bet one day, we can snap our fingers and teleport our asses in there. One day.

Until then. Don't drink magic water. No matter how pretty it is.


End file.
